


A Treatise on the Lives of Religious Nomads (or, The Time The Doctor Got It Wrong)

by Scribe



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-30
Updated: 2009-12-30
Packaged: 2017-10-05 12:46:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/41861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scribe/pseuds/Scribe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Christmas present for dizzydame (prompt at the end for spoilers).</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Treatise on the Lives of Religious Nomads (or, The Time The Doctor Got It Wrong)

"One random planet, coming up," announced the Doctor, making a great show of not looking at the dial he was spinning.

"No cheating and looking at the coordinates," warned Rose from the jump seat.

"Of course not."

"But make sure we don't land somewhere the atmosphere'll vaporize us or something."

"Your wish, my command. You might want to hold on, though, there's no telling how bumpy it'll be."

Very bumpy, as it turned out. Rose was bemoaning yet another set of bruises and the Doctor was pontificating on the ridiculousness of the human funny bone as the tumbled out of the TARDIS and looked around. They were standing on the paved stone street of some kind of city built into the rock. It was pleasantly cool with a bit of a breeze, lit by one sun that didn't seem to be giving off a lot of heat.

"No idea," said the Doctor after a moment.

"Not at all?"

"It's a basic human life support environment. Oxygen, enough heat, not too much radiation. Could be dozens of planets." He grinned. "Shall we have a look?"

It was immediately apparent that there was something very strange about the place. The Doctor wandered about, knocking on the walls and stamping his feet.

"What is this stuff? It's not stone, certainly. See?" He broke off a piece and held it out to Rose. "What do you think?"

"'S like...Styrofoam or something."

"Exactly. It must grow naturally here, some kind of plant matter or mineral deposit or something. Still, why would you build with it? Not exactly the sturdiest of materials."

"And there's obviously no shortage of stone around."

"Maybe they're nomads? It's light enough to carry, whatever it is."

Rose rolled her eyes at him. "A bit bulky, though, don't you think? And besides, what kind of nomads build city...castle...things?"

"More to the point, what kind of nomads build city-castle-things and then desert them? Or hadn't you noticed?" He turned in a circle, waving an arm to encompass the place. "No people."

"Bit of a mystery?" She grinned.

"I'd say so. Oh, hello, look at this!"

He bounded back to the room where the TARDIS was parked, crouching down to inspect the doorjamb. Rose knelt beside him, peering at the strange characters inscribed in the not-stone.

"I can't read it," she said after a minute.

"I know," he said, not looking away. "It makes no sense. The TARDIS is trying to translate it, I can feel it, but she keeps slipping. It's like...like a dream you can't recall. It's there, right on the edge of your mind, but when you try to look directly at it it just vanishes."

"Maybe she just hasn't seen it before?"

"No, that shouldn't be a problem..." he trailed off, pulling out his glasses to get a closer look. When it became apparent that he was absorbed Rose straightened and resumed her own exploration, although she returned before long.

"The rooms aren't right either," she announced. "If you look in any one of these doorways it's all...unfinished. No one could actually live here- Doctor? Are you listening?"

"No one could live here, yes," murmured the Doctor, who was obviously not paying attention for all that he had a decent recall. "No one could live here...no one could live here! Of course! No one's supposed to live here!" He sprang upright, grinning. "Oh, you're brilliant!"

"So what is it?"

"An offering! The whole city, it's an offering! 'Cause there's this basic belief, right, thousands and thousands of societies have it, that when something disappears or, or wears away then it must be the gods who are taking it. So these people, they create a ceremonial city built out of decidedly not sturdy materials and they leave it here, the elements- they're probably strong on this planet- do their work, and bang, city's gone, must have been taken by the gods for their own use. That's why it's all unfinished and uninhabited and everything."

"And the writing?"

"Ah...haven't figured that one out yet. Maybe it's not a real language? Some gibberish they made up to be the language of the gods? We could ask them."

"What?"

"Take a look." He spun her by the shoulders. There was some kind of transport approaching from afar, little clouds of dust kicked up by three low, van-like things.

"Maybe we should hide?" she suggested. "I'm not exactly keen to find out what the punishment for desecrating a sacred city is."

So they crouched in the alcove with the TARDIS, waiting for something to happen. After a while the transports approached and a distant rumble of voices emerged. The Doctor was lost in his own world, trying to decipher the writing on the doorjamb, so Rose crept outside to investigate.

She returned a minute later, gasping with laughter, and dragged him out.

The Doctor looked around in amazement. The place was bustling, people rushing about, fussing with cameras and microphones and makeup. There were trailers. There were horses. There was a tent filled with food and another with electronics.

"Sacrifice to the gods, I think you said? Nomadic city?" Rose grinned up at him.

"Ah. Yes. Well, it appears to be...a movie set. Earth. Around your time, too, I'd say. Give or take a few years, depending on whether their technology is new or used." He glanced down. Rose was leaning against a fake wall, hand over her mouth, shoulders shaking. "I'm not going to live this down anytime soon, am I?" he said, resigned.

"Not in a million years."

"Well-"

"A million years, relative time."

He was saved further taunting by the approach of a harried looking man in jeans and a t-shirt.

"Excuse me, but who are you?" he asked in the tone of someone who would really rather not be dealing with this.

"Oh, er, just a moment." The Doctor fumbled in his pocket and produced the psychic paper with a smile. "There we are."

"Right, they mentioned a journalist would be coming by today," said the man. He seemed too harried to be bothered with introductions. "I don't have any idea who's supposed to deal with you. You're almost an hour early, you know."

"Right, right sorry. The, er, drive didn't take as long as I'd thought. We can just have a look around ourselves, no need to bother you."

"And who is this?" asked the man, nodding at Rose who was making an admirable effort to compose herself.

"Trainee," said the Doctor. "She's interning with us for the summer, wants to be a reporter some day." The man looked dubious. "Don't worry, she doesn't get any say in what we print. Just along for the ride, so to speak."

"Well, as long as she's signed the confidentiality forms, I suppose it's all right. You did bring them along, didn't you?"

"Oh, of course. Right here." The Doctor patted his pocket, hoping he wouldn't have to actually produce the forms any time soon.

"Good. You may as well have a look around then, although you'll have to keep most of what you see secret. Come down to the crafts tent when you're through, I'll have someone keep an eye out for you."

"Yes, thanks, very good of you," said the Doctor. "Just one thing- what movie are you filming, exactly?"

Surprisingly, the question didn't earn him any suspicion. Instead, the man favored him with a conspiratorial grin.

"Not a big fan of the books then?"

"Er, no, I don't think so."

"I've never read them all the way through, to tell the truth. It's Return of the King today. You're standing in Minas Tirith." And with that he raised a hand to them and hurried away.

They stood in silence for a few seconds before Rose lost the battle with her composure and burst into laughter again.

"We're on the set of Lord of the Rings," she managed between giggles. "Lord of the Rings, and you thought they were a tribe of alien god-fearing nomads!"

"Right, well, yes, I occasionally make mistakes. Let's get back to the TARDIS, shall we, and try for somewhere more interesting?"

"Not a chance! You landed us here, you can deal with it, mister. I'm not leaving until I meet Orlando Bloom. Come on!"

**Author's Note:**

> prompt was, somewhat obviously, Doctor visits LOTR set.


End file.
